Out of This World (17 page)

The other boys are still straddling their bikes behind us, engines off. I hear one of them chuckle. I have to smile myself, watching the little old lady that's our grandma lay down the law on J-Dog.

She looks from him to me. “Now enough of the bullshit,” she tells us. “Both you and I know you never had any hunch. How'd you know to come riding in like a pair of half-assed John Waynes with an entourage?”

“We already had a run-in with some other mutts,” J-Dog says, “and we got word they might be coming for you.”

“But
why
?”

J-Dog just looks at me.

I sigh. “It's a long story and I'll tell you whatever you need to know, but first I have to make a call.”

Grandma's eyebrows go up but she waves her hand, telling me to go ahead.

I dial Des's number.

“Do you know where Josh's mother works?” I ask when he picks up.

“Sure,” he says. “She runs Dr. Esposito's office.”

“Would she be working there today?”

“What happened?”

I can hear the worry in his voice.

“I don't know, bro,” I tell him. “They took a run at my grandma, but she stood them off with a shotgun. And Marina, too. I think she took off to, you know, over
there
.”

“Not again, dude,” Des moans.

“Don't worry, bro. I'm going to find her as soon as I can
get my ass over there. But it makes me think they're probably gunning for Josh's mom, too.”

I hear him say a muffled, “I have to go,” to someone.

“Who are you with?” I ask.

“Cory and Donalita. We're on our way to your compound to meet up with Auntie Min. She says something big went down there.”

Oh, crap.

“Do you have the number of Josh's pet Feds?” I ask.

“Yeah, but—”

“Send them to check on her. I'll see you at the clubhouse.”

“You'll see who at our crib?” J-Dog wants to know when I hang up.

“Wildlings,” I tell him. “Really old Wildlings who've been around forever, and might be a little pissed off with how we handled things back there.”

J-Dog frowns. “Yeah, well, maybe they'd like a taste of the same medicine.”

“Is
anybody
going to say
anything
that makes sense?” Grandma asks.

I can't believe how messed up this is. What I really want to do is find Marina, but the crap just won't stop piling up.

I point a finger at J-Dog. “You go ahead and tell them that,” I say, then turn to Grandma and gently put my palm on top of her head. “I'm sorry,” I tell her, “but the explanations are going to have to wait. I promise I'll tell you everything first chance I get.”

Grandma swats my hand away and gives us a stern look. When I was a kid, that would have had me scrambling for a place to hide.

“What have you boys got yourselves into now?” she asks.

“You remember Donalita?” I say.

“That nice girl you were helping?”

“This is part of the same problem. But we're handling it.”

“So she's still in trouble?”

I nod.

“Well, what are you waiting for, boy? Go help her. Don't you worry about me. I've got everything under control here.”

I give another nod. But all the same, when we're back on our bikes, heading for the clubhouse, we leave Tall Boy behind to handle the dead dog and keep an eye on things.

Tío Goyo turns and walks back to the camp. I watch his back for a moment, then trot until I catch up with him. When we get to where our blankets are still spread out, he fills the kettle from the canteen.

I grab some cheese and bread and eat it standing at the edge of the mesa where I can look out across the valley, trying not to think about the argument we just had. My brain obliges, but with perverse humour, has me going back to the usual ruminations about my messed up life.

“Josh!”

I turn to Tío Goyo. “I know,” I say. “Too much in my own head again.”

He shrugs then lifts the kettle. “I just wanted to tell you that the tea's ready.”

“The tea,” I say. “Right.”

I accept the mug he pours for me. He clinks his own against mine, the sound of the metal muted. It's cool enough to take a sip. Another. I wonder how long Tío Goyo was trying to get my attention that the tea cooled this much.

He drinks his all in one go.

“It's better to have it all at once,” he says.

So I follow suit.

“It seems a little bitter,” I say.

He nods. “That's the mescal. But don't worry. I used only a pinch—just enough to wake up your spirit, not enough to poison you.”

“You gave me … a drug?”

“No. Or at least not recreational.”

“I don't do drugs.”

He gives another nod. “Which is highly commendable. But this isn't doing drugs. This is a learning experience.”

“Why would you
drug
me?”

I feel like hitting him again, but my arms and legs are tingling and they don't seem to have any strength.

“Trust is a two-way street,” he says. “I realize now that I've given you no good reason to trust me, so I'm going to show you one of the secrets of the Halcón Pueblo as a measure of good faith.”

“By drugging me … against … my will …”

I'm slurring my words. I want to call up the mountain lion. Maybe if I do the switch, I can clean out my system the way shifting shapes has healed me previously. But my brain feels as thick as my tongue and I can't seem to focus.

“I'm … going … to kill … you …” I tell Tío Goyo.

“You have my permission to try,” he says. “But first absorb this wonderful experience.”

I don't feel wonderful. I feel kind of sick.

I'm overcome with the sensation that I'm sinking and floating at the same time, and I get the distinct impression that my body
is no longer mine to control. Never mind getting to my feet. I can't even keep upright.

Then I make the mistake of looking down, only to realize I'm looking at myself, swaying back and forth. I'm floating in the air, but my body is still sitting on the ground below me. As it starts to tumble over, Tío Goyo catches me and lays me carefully on the ground.

Except that's not me. I'm up here, floating.

And as I watch from this disconcerting perspective, my body starts to dissolve. It just melts away until it's absorbed into the ground.

What the hell did you
do
to me?
I yell.

Except I don't have a physical body, so I don't have a physical voice. It's just my thought that rages out into the afternoon air.

In. Which. I'm. Floating.

Without a body.

Relax
, a familiar voice says.

I don't have a head or eyes, so it's my awareness that turns to find a hawk riding an updraft beside me.

Relax? How am I supposed to relax when you just made me melt away?

You didn't melt away,
the voice answers.
Your spirit is who you are. Your body is just matter, and you borrow it as needed from the earth, to which it will return. It will be waiting for you when you need it back
.

What are you saying?
I ask.

Did you never wonder how a boy such as yourself can take on the bulk of a mountain lion with a mere thought?

Not really.

It's because you take as much matter as you need to shape yourself.

But it's only borrowed. What never changes is your spirit. That always belongs to you. But since your spirit has no matter, you have no true shape.

Except you're a hawk
.

No. You only perceive me as a hawk. The same way anybody looking up at the moment would perceive you as one, too.

It all makes a crazy kind of sense. And for some weird reason, it calms me.

You couldn't just tell me what you were going to do?
I ask.

I've learned that people don't truly understand an experience such as this until they've lived it. Trying to explain it in advance is futile. Are you really so upset?

Honestly
, I tell him,
it's kind of cool.

I feel him smile in my head.

So how long does the effect last?
I ask.

It's not an effect. It's reality. It's what you see when you stop dreaming and wake up to how the world really is. And it lasts as long as you wish
.
When you're ready to reclaim your place in the physical world, return to the earth and will your body back to you.

How do I do that?

The same way you change from human to mountain lion
.

Which means that I'd better remember that I want to be wearing clothes when I come back.

Does this work anywhere
, I ask,
or only in the otherworld?

The first time is always easier in the otherworld, but you can do it anywhere
.

So how do we move around?

Again the smile in my head.
All you are is spirit, so all you have is your will
.

I consider that for a moment, then imagine myself being
closer to the ground. As fast as I can think, it happens. I'm so close that every piece of dirt and pebble is enormous in my perception. I let myself rise back up through the air until again I'm beside the hawk that is Tío Goyo.

So this is the secret of the Halcón Pueblo
, I say.
You don't turn into hawks. You turn into spirits that look like hawks. It must be good for spying
.

I'm thinking of all the times I've seen hawks watching me.

It is a secret
, he says.

And now this is something that I can do?

Normally, I would say no. But to the best of my knowledge, no one has ever shown this to a cousin before. Since the knowledge to make it work is the same as what you apply to change shapes …

I get the equivalent of a mental shrug.

After that we spend a while getting me used to moving around. We fly fast in between the big trees and drop straight off the mesa's edge, pulling up from the ground at the last moment to soar high in the air again. So high that we can take in the whole slightly oval shape of the mesa.

It's exhilarating. Like skateboarding on steroids. I wish Des and Marina were here and able to experience this with me.

Finally, just as the sun is setting in a sky of reds and oranges, we return to camp. I watch the hawk that is Tío Goyo descend. When his talons touch the ground, his human shape rises up out of the dirt and stone, and wraps itself around the hawk. The last I see of it is the beak disappearing as it's swallowed into his chest.

Then it's my turn.

You're wearing clothes, I tell myself. Just like you were before the tea melted you away.

My own talons touch the ground and my body rises up to
embrace my spirit. I know I'm doing it right because climbing back into my body is the most familiar sensation I've ever felt. I cheat just before the transformation is complete, so that when I'm standing in front of Tío Goyo, my little dreadlocks that got shaved off from my time in the ValentiCorp lab are back. And longer.

I push them back over my shoulder.

Now that's cool.

Tío Goyo regards me with surprise, but all he says is, “Interesting.”

I walk with Cory and Donalita as they trek along the Pacific Coast Highway, both of them showing a confidence I don't feel. Think about it. I don't want to come off as a pussy, but dude, we're going to the Ocean Avers' compound—a place that's off limits to everyone but the gang. Sure, we know Chaingang and he's all cool with us and everything, but the other guys? Not so much. Let's face it: they have a rep to maintain and there isn't going to be any welcome committee when we go waltzing into their backyard.

It's not like Auntie Min's going to ask permission, considering how she feels she owns all of Santa Feliz, and don't even get me started on what Donalita's reaction would be if someone tells her she can't do something. So yeah, I'm worried about what kind of first impression we'll make.